Ruined

Dorcas was looking at the world from the window of her room. She sat quietly on the wooden bench, pondering over her life.  She was heartbroken. She watched as the world moved by. People walked up and down the street. Moving cars revved up and down too, the sound of the angry honking of horns, dead to her hearing. She feared that soon, hardship would yank life out of her. When she looked into the sea of pedestrians, she wondered if any of them had tasted her bitter experience called life. 

She turned her gaze into her room. Her eyes swept through the room. At one corner, was a  thin and worn out mattress laid on the cemented floor. Beside the mattress was a small wooden table. On top of the table was a pile of papers and a small mirror that leaned on the greasy wall. There was also a moulded pot of water in the other corner. She drank from it. The wooden centre table had lost a leg, to which she had used a stool to prod, to keep it from toppling. 

She stood up and made for a ‘Ghana must go’ bag. The bag sat closer to the pot. She tugged out of it; a yellow gown which had seen better days. She was getting ready to move out. Every day was just another she would go hunting for two things –a menial job and John. She would go out with high hopes, that one day, she would find any of the two. She had prayed and fasted. Her first prayer point had been to see John again. John was the man who crawled into her life like a snail. The man who shook his head in pity when he learnt that she was an orphan. The man who had promised to fight by her side. The man who had promised to love her, come rain, come shine. The man who was a wolf in sheep's clothing. She should have known that he was a bag full of lies. She should have known that he was a gold digger, who had come to fleece her and make away with all her life savings. But she thought she had found an undying love in John. 

She would never forget the particular day the manager of the Five Star Hotel she had worked for, called her to his office. She stood a few meters away from the gigantic desk. Her hands clasped loosely just above her knees. The manager scowled at her,  

“Here is your termination letter." 

He stretched his sturdy hand to offer her the white envelop. She froze at the spot as she felt her heart slam against her chest and her legs dissolve under her. Her mouth dropped, but had no words to speak. She knew what to say, but her lips had lost the ability to move. She knew her offenses, even though she had lost count of the times she repeated them.  She remembered those times she was absent from work. John had fallen sick and needed her care. She remembered borrowing money from the hotel which she requested be deducted from her salary when she was due for payment. She felt clearing John’s debt would bring back his charming smiles. The company had had enough. She had to be relieved of her duties. After all, no one was irreplaceable. The company would always find a person as hardworking as Dorcas but not as nonchalant as she was.  

She came back home that day in a somber mood. She met another white envelop on the table. It contained a letter and the content tore what was left of her broken heart. John had written it. Dorcas dropped the letter when she had gained the knowledge that the rent of the two-room apartment had expired and that their relationship was over. 

From that day, Dorcas would roam up and down the small town, walking in and out of restaurants, applying for the post of a waitress, in her yellow gown, without any luck. When the day turned into night, she would crawl back to the dingy apartment with cracked windows. She had harbored and nurtured curses that she would like to rain down on John. She wanted to hurl the curses while he stood and looked into her eyes. That way it would be more effective, so she thought. 

And it came that day. It was a stretchy day. The clouds had parted and the sun had decided to make its appearance. The scorching heat was ripping Dorcas' back as she ambled out of this restaurant. As usual, her request had been turned down. The creases on her face had burrowed into a frown as her flip-flops tapped away on the coal tar. She was about hitting into the street when she stopped on her track as she heard what the manager of the restaurant had said. 

“Who would like to patronize me if I employ an old woman of 35yrs as the waitress?”

Some part of her wanted to go back and tell the manager that she was only but 25yrs. But when she saw her reflection on the glassy window, she stifled the urge. She saw the wrinkles hardship had left on her face. It was enough to have added 10yrs to her age.  

She turned and made a few strides away before she stopped. She struggled to steer clear of the trailing prado SUV, which pulled to a stop some feet behind her. The man that came down seemed to recognize her. He fixed his gaze on her face as he walked up to her, followed closely by a pregnant lady who came down from the passenger's side of the car. Dorcas jaw dropped as she finally recognized the face. She stood transfixed for some seconda. Her heart melted into her stomach and in no time, her eyes filled up with tears. She shook her head and tears flowed profusely coursing her cheeks. Now was the perfect time to rain the curses on him. But her eyes kept sweeping from John to the pregnant woman and back to John. She shook her head again and more sobbed silently.

John raised his dropped head to glance at her face. His hands reached to grab Dorcas’ hands. But she recoiled in disgust and retracted her hands. She ran blindly into the road to make a cross, in a bid to get as far away from Johnas possible. There was an oncoming vehicle. It was too late by the time she saw it. A sharp scream pierced the air. It took some split seconds for Dorcas to realize the cream was coming from the pregnant woman. John’s hand rose to cover his dropped jaw. The oncoming vehicle, in its full velocity, decked Dorcas, sending her flying into the air, and she came crashing onto the jagged edges of the gutter with her head first, bursting like a watermelon. Her brain registered in a faint blur, the image of John rushing towards her, shortly before her eyes closed and her life slowly fizzled out.

By Chukwuebuka Harrison